


Puppy Tails - Sickfic

by Aurora_bee



Series: Puppy tails [114]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Funny, Gen, M/M, Puppies, Sickfic, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 02:58:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1329301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurora_bee/pseuds/Aurora_bee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock's ill, and everything is falling down around their ears literally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Puppy Tails - Sickfic

"Sherlock, Sherlock!" John shouted. Sherlock slowly opened one eye and closed it again. "Sherlock I need you to get up now." John said sternly with a slight quiver in his voice.

"John I'm ill, you dold me yourdelf, and I'm acdually in adreement dat I should day in bed." Sherlock sniffed miserably.

"Sherlock, this is a Vatican Cameo's situation, you need to get up slowly." John replied holding his arms out in front of him.

"Dreally John, you're so dramatic." Sherlock said as he tried to pull the duvet back over his head.

"Look up you idiot." John grunted. Sherlock looked upwards and visibly jumped.

"Of fu.." Sherlock started.

"Naughty Sherlock, now come on, into the living room." John said as Sherlock slowly crawled out of bed to the door.

 

Sherlock sat on the sofa in his pyjamas with his coat wrapped around him and Gladstone on his lap.

"Dis is doing dufing for my dold." Sherlock groaned.

"Do you want another blanket?" John asked throwing the blanket off the back of his chair at Sherlock.

"Mmmmfph." Sherlock replied as the blanket hit him in the face.

"Ok I've been on hold for twenty minutes now. This is starting to get a little bit silly." John massaged his temples. "Can you at least look for a bloody hotel." 

"I'm ill." Sherlock replied. John's head snapped around and he gave Sherlock a stare that would have killed a lesser man.

"Ok, but Gladone has do like it. He's dot going in a kennel." Sherlock replied as he booted up John's laptop.

"Fine, fine Sherlock." John replied just as his call was answered. "Yes, the ceiling has fallen down in my bedroom. No it's rented. Hello? Hello? Oh for fu.."

"Naudy John." Sherlock said as he scrolled through his list of hotels. Gladstone barked and wagged his tail.

"Don't you start." John groaned as he sat down in his arm chair. Gladstone made his way over to his dad and sniffed his boot.

"Why dondt you ask Mrs Hudson?" Sherlock suggested before he blew half his brains out through his nose into a tissue. "Oh dadts better." Sherlock sighed as he sucked in air through his nose.

"Sherlock, Mrs Hudson went on holiday to Skegness on Monday, didn't you pay any attention?" John grumbled.

"Id wasunt impordant at dur dime." Sherlock said with a shrug. "Candt we sleep in your old roomb?"

"Not if you want to take the chance of falling through the ceiling." John replied as Gladstone tried to mount his boot. "Don't even think about it you little sod." John said as the puppy backed off.

"John, I'm feeling a bid sick." Sherlock groaned before turning an odd shade of grey and projectile vomiting on John's laptop.

"Oh god." John sighed as he watched Sherlock wipe the vomit from his lips. Gladstone ran over an sniffed at the curious orange substance that had landed on the carpet. "Where the hell did all that come from? Don't lick it Gladstone." John gently pushed Gladstone away from the vomit with his boot as he pulled Sherlock up. "Come on you let's wash you off."

"I dond feel berry well." Sherlock mumbled.

"I know Lock, it's ok." John said as he brushed Sherlock's hair out of his eyes. "I'm going to clean you up and pack a few things. If you puke in the taxi, so be it."

"I haven't bookdt an hotel." Sherlock said as he walked into the bathroom and poured himself a glass of water.

"I have a key to Mycroft's Mayfair apartment." John said smiling. "And since both he and Greg are away..."

"You're a berry bad man, du know he doesdnt like dogs in dere." Sherlock replied with a smirk.

 

Mycroft arrived with a small army of men carrying his bags, and was surprised to see Sherlock sitting on his chaise lounge watching morning telly.

"How did you get in here?" Mycroft asked as he dropped his laptop bag on the small antique mahogany table by the door. 

"With a key." Sherlock replied. 

"Where's John?" Mycroft asked as one of his entourage entered the bedroom to unpack his cases.

"Oh sorry mate." The man said closing the bedroom door before turning to Mycroft. "A gentleman appears to be vomiting in your bedroom Mr Holmes."

"And you couldn't do this in the confines of your own flat?" Mycroft groaned.

"The ceiling collapsed in our bedroom and Mrs Hudson was in Loch Ness." Sherlock replied. Mycroft rolled his eyes as a voice rang out from the bedroom.

"Durlog gan I ave a glass of wader pleade?" John squeaked.

"Could you get that Mycroft. I'm right in the middle of something." Sherlock said as he concentrated on the girl covered in tattoos on the screen. Mycroft huffed and shoved Sherlock off the end of the chaise lounge. "That's a no then." Sherlock mumbled as he got to his feet.


End file.
